Pet Sounds
by MannequIncorporated
Summary: The end of one relationship. The beginning of another. And the greatest album of all time! CraigMarco, albumfic, rated for eventualities. What's an albumfic? Details inside.
1. Wouldn't It Be Nice

**Pet Sounds**  
_(An Albumfiction Event by MannequIncorporated)_

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned below, nor do I own Brian Wilson or his majestic talent (they belong to Capitol Records).

Note: This is not only a slash fic (which, if you don't like slash, you can leave now), but also an extension of the songfic theme: that is, an _album_fic. This story will follow a relationship between Marco and Craig, as set to (and encapsulated by) the album Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys. As such, each chapter will follow the lyrics of its corresponding track on the album. If you don't have a copy of the album, GET ONE. It and Sergeant Pepper are the two albums every living soul should own. Every. Living. Soul. That being said, enjoy.

--

**Track One**

_Wouldn't It Be Nice  
Wouldn't it be nice if we were older  
Then we wouldn't have to wait so long  
And wouldn't it be nice to live together  
In the kind of world where we belong_

"Everything's great between us," Marco said, although with a little less conviction than Spinner had come to expect. "I mean, it's hard being so far apart, but--" he paused a moment. "We make the best of it, you know?"

Spinner shrugged, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Whatever you say, dude. But don't forget you blamed your troubles on not having Dylan here. I mean, the sex couldn't have been _that _great, right?"

"You have no idea," Marco said, his eyes coming alight. "We used to--"

"Okay, hold it!" Spinner put up his hands, shaking his head. "I really don't need to hear exactly what you guys do in bed. Just like how you don't feel like hearing about the girls I sleep with."

Marco sighed. "I guess you're right." He grinned, leaning back on his dad's couch. "But it's always great. Fair enough?" Spinner nodded as Marco continued. "The best feeling in the world is falling asleep in the arms of the one you know will love you forever."

_You know it's gonna make it that much better  
When we can say goodnight and sleep together_

"You don't really think they'll stick it out long, do you?"

Ellie shrugged. "Not to sound like I'm not on your side, Craig, but they seem really happy together."

Craig stood up from the picnic table at the park. "You weren't there when he kissed me, El. You've got no idea--"

"I know _exactly _what it's like to be kissed by Marco, Craig. Unless you'd forgotten?" Ellie folded her arms across her chest. "I was kind of his girlfriend for a million years. And now," she looked pointedly at him, "I'm kind of yours, or was."

"You've got some kind of talent, you know that?" Craig let a smirk cross his lips, for just a moment. She coughed and rolled her eyes. "Just give what I said some thought," he continued, "and see if you can spot anything for me. Please?"

Ellie shook her head. "You owe me one." She crossed her legs, leaning back on the wooden bench. "How long are you in town for?"

_Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up  
In the morning when the day is new  
And after having spent the day together  
Hold each other close the whole night through_

"I mean, he's still in hockey heaven, all alone, and he never calls you." Spinner scrunched his eyebrows. "If a chick did that to me I'd consider myself dumped. No offence," he tacked on to the end; it sounded a bit tactless, if he thought about it. Which he didn't, he was Spinner.

Marco just frowned. "I know he cares about me, that he's in love with me. I know it because I trust him. And if you can't trust the one you love, who can you trust?"

"You can trust your friends." Spinner looked him in the eye. "And I know enough to tell you when you're going in circles trying to make sense out of something. So stand still for a second and see what's up, okay?" Where did all this insight come from, of a sudden? It was a mystery to him.

_Happy times together we'd be spending  
I wish that every kiss was neverending  
Oh, wouldn't it be nice_

"It just kills me to think of him fawning over Paige's brother, you know?" He coughed; it was a little cool outside. He tugged his jacket tighter around him. "He should be fawning over me; I know him a lot better than Dylan does."

Incredulity shone in Ellie's eyes. "Who the hell do you think you are?" It was an honest question. "Just because you're his friend, and you want more than that, doesn't make him an open book to you." She laughed softly. "However, in Marco's case, sleeping with him does. And Dylan's still one up in that department." More than one up, really, but who was she to drag that in?

Craig laughed back at her. "So you're saying if I want to figure Marco out, I have to sleep with him?" He blinked. "Are you saying Marco's that easy?"

"Craig!" Her eyes flashed. "Of course not! Leave it to you," she rolled her eyes again, "to bring this to a level like that."

Craig threw up his hands, playing the injured party. "I'm just trying to get what you're saying, El."

She shrugged. "I give up on you, okay?" She headed toward her car, turning her head back to him. "Maybe try actually talking to him? Take him out to lunch or something."

_Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray it might come true  
Maybe then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do  
We could be married  
Then we'd be happy  
Oh, wouldn't it be nice_

"Look, let's just check your email and see if he sent you anything. Ten bucks says he didn't." Spinner stood up, going into the kitchen to open Marco's laptop.

Marco followed quickly. "That's not fair, Spinner. He's busy." He tried to beat Spinner to the screen, and lost.

Spinner rubbed the trackpad, and the computer sprang to life. "Let's see--Inbox!" He opened the web browser. The top email's subject read 'Marco', and it was indeed from Dylan.

Marco pushed Spinner out of the way, clicking the subject quickly. The message read _Marco, I love you very much, and that's why I want you to be happy-- _Marco stopped reading, unable to finish it; he felt the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. _I want you to be happy, _he had said. Bullshit.

He heard Spinner as though from several miles away, saying "Whoa, man. I'm sorry, I--"

Marco waved him away. "Go home, Spin." The tears started falling fresh.

"You sure you're okay?" Spinner tried to look in Marco's eyes, but the smaller boy just looked away, holding back sobs.

"I'll--I'll be all right," he choked. "I just need some time alone."

Spinner nodded. "Call if you need, um, anything." Marco appreciated the gesture, but at this point was beyond Spinner's help. He just nodded as Spinner grabbed his things and headed out.

For a blissful, horrible moment, he was completely alone in his parents' house. Then he felt his leg tingling; his cell phone was ringing. He took it out of his pocket and saw that Craig was calling; against all his better judgement, he answered.

_You know it seems the more we talk about it  
It only makes it worse to live without it  
But let's talk about it  
Oh wouldn't it be nice_

"Marco? Are you okay?" Had Marco just been crying?

"Yeah, I'm fine," came the lie through the phone. "No, I'm not. Craig," Marco began, his voice breaking, "I'm--I'm all alone."

Craig felt his heart leap and his stomach plummet, simultaneously. "What? What happened?"

"He broke it off with me." He was crying softly, but Craig could still hear his tearful, hiccoughing gasps. "He doesn't want me, Craig," he whispered.

Craig, for his part, abandoned (most of) his selfish thoughts, and went into a state of panic for Marco's sake. "Hang tight, bud, I'm coming over. We'll go get coffee or something, okay?" Silence. "You up for that, Marco?"

"Yeah," came the reply, followed by forcedly slower, more regular deep breaths. "Yeah, that'd be great."

Craig jumped into his car. "Cool. You at your parents' house?"

"Uh-huh," Marco's voice quivered.

"All right, I'll be there in a second," Craig tried to sound soothing. "Don't do anything stupid okay? I'll be there."

_Goodnight, my baby  
Sleep tight, my baby  
Goodnight, my baby  
Sleep tight, my baby_


	2. You Still Believe In Me

**Pet Sounds**

(An Albumfiction Event by MannequIncorporated)

Reminders: I don't own characters or lyrics. This is slash. This is out of canon.

**Track Two**  
_You Still Believe In Me_

_I know perfectly well I'm not where I should be  
I've been very aware you've been patient with me_

"I just don't know what to do without him, Craig." Marco was near tears; his companion was a curly-haired blur across the table at the Dot. "I don't know what I can do with myself, now that he's gone, and it seems like he's a million miles away."

Craig blinked. "You can't say you didn't see this coming, though."

Marco's vision cleared instantly; what exactly was Craig implying? "Didn't see it coming? Of course I didn't see it coming. I -- He -- he just needs to think about -- stuff. I'm sure he'll come around, I mean, how many times have we broken up now? And we always get back together. And we will again, right?" He was making a silent plea with his eyes, a plea that crossed the mile-long table, just over the salt shaker.

Craig nodded, but he looked away; Marco assumed he was distracted by something. "Of course, Marco. He, um, he still loves you and all." He reached for the back of his chair, leaning forward suddenly. "Hey, Marco, I just forgot, I was -- supposed to pick up Angie," he muttered quickly. "Okay if I split?"

Marco was a little bewildered by Craig's sudden desire for departure. "Uh, okay?" He stood up. "Didn't you drive us here?"

Craig's glance darted to the door. "Oh, right. Well, I'll swing by your place first, yeah?"

Marco nodded. "But isn't that out of your way?" He put his hand on Craig's arm. "I don't want to be any trouble."

Craig's eyes finally met Marco's, as the darker boy's hand lingered on his forearm; was there something behind his eyes? Something bothering him? Marco watched his mouth open and close again. How could Craig, the penultimate smooth talker, have come up with a loss for words? Was he upset for Marco's sake? How adorably sweet.

He found words at last. "It's not any trouble, Marco. You've been through --" he paused, took a deep breath here: "-- I mean, Angie can wait a few more minutes. I want to make sure you're all right." He flashed a half smile. "Right?"

Marco returned his smile, though he was still at a loss. "Right. I'll get the tab."

But Craig had already laid a few loonies on the table for their coffee, and grabbed his jacket. He held the door for Marco, which never went unappreciated.

They headed for Marco's shared apartment. Craig walked him to the door (chivalry noted once again) and stopped him as he opened the front door; he held his forearm as Marco had in the Dot, his grip firm yet gentle. Those eyes met Marco's again, then looked away. "Marco, I --" he sighed. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Marco nodded, then felt Craig wrap his arms around him in a tight hug; he became aware of the taller boy's warm cheek against his own. Craig was trying to take some of Marco's pain away, he realized; why had he not seen sooner how caring Craig really was?

_Every time we break up you bring back your life to me  
And after all I've done to you  
How can it be you still believe in me?_

"Dylan," Marco said, biting his lip in emotional agony, as he stared at the screen. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, waiting for direction. He continued saying his words aloud, trying to use the force of his own voice to break through the distance between them. "I know you're having doubts--" _I can't lead you on anymore _were his exact words: _I haven't missed you as much as I should have, and I can't stand for you to be upset. _"-- But I want you to think back on what we did, the great life we had, and know that I'll be here for you when you come back." But he wasn't coming back, was he? _I just signed the lease on a gorgeous little townhome with one of the guys from the team: Mike Cressman, you remember him from the party, _he had said. Marco had gratefully blocked the words from his mind. Mike Cressman who?

Marco concluded his letter and sent it, then picked up his cellphone, dialing Craig. "Hey, Craig, you still in town?"

Craig laughed softly from the other end. "I'll be here until you don't need me anymore, okay?"

Marco felt tears spring to his eyes again. How was he lucky enough to get a friend like Craig?

_I try hard to be more what you want me to be  
But I can't help how I act when you're not here with me_

Marco knocked on Joey's front door; Craig had taken him for coffee two days ago, and it had seemed like a lifetime away, two lifetimes since Spinner had found The E-mail.

The door opened and a high-pitched cry of 'Marcooo!' followed an attack on his waist; Angie had answered.

And there was Craig, rubbing his hair with a towel in the stairwell behind her. "Sorry, man," he said, grinning, "She beat me to it."

Marco smiled and detached himself from Angie, and stepped inside. He felt his stomach jump; he'd been round to Craig's a million times, why did it feel different this time? He pushed it away and hugged Craig, a quick, pat-the-back hug like Spinner would have given. Marco felt slightly let down.

And then the awkward silence. Marco had never known awkwardness around Craig before, unless it involved --

Ashley. Craig was strung up about Ashley, Marco guessed, and all he was doing was getting in the way of Craig needing emotional support. Craig said something Marco didn't catch, and turned up the stairs. Marco followed, dropping his bag by the hall closet.

They headed into Craig's bedroom, still the same as it always had been. Craig closed the door as Marco settled down on the edge of his bed. The curly-haired boy sat down next to him, at a comfortable distance of maybe a foot and a half away. Marco looked into his eyes, and broke the silence. "It's okay, Craig. I know what you're upset about, and I want you to know you can talk to me about it."

Craig shook his head, looking away. "You know what I'm upset about?" He frowned. "You couldn't!"

"Look," Marco sighed. "The only time you get like this is when you're upset about something with Ashley. And I'm here for you, okay? I know I've had my problems recently --"

But Craig was giggling softly, almost sounding relieved. "Ashley? You think this is about Ashley?"

Marco smiled a little; Craig's laugh was contagious. "Who else would this be about? You're upset about somebody."

"What makes you think I'm upset?" Craig was serious again. "What gave you that impression?"

"It's kind of written across your face, man."

Craig recomposed his features into a very James Bond-raised-eyebrow-smirk. "How about now?"

Marco laughed. "What, is it written across your face now?" he pushed Craig playfully. "No, now it looks more like 'hugely stupid'."

Craig clutched his chest, mocking a mortal wound. "That cuts me deep, Del Rossi." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Real deep, you know?"

Marco sat still in the fading evening light, looking away. "This is what I mean, Craig." He waved his hands in the shrunken distance between them. "This awkward space. It's just here all of a sudden."

Craig sat back, his smile returning slightly. "I dunno, man. Maybe it's a ghost." He wasn't planning on being open today.

Marco stood up. "Well, if you want to talk about it again, I'll come over, or you come over to my place." He smoothed his shirt instinctively. "But if I know Dylan at all, I'll have some kind of news waiting for me. Wish me luck," he said, holding out his hand to help Craig stand up.

Craig was unreadable again. He followed Marco to the front door, then hugged him again on the front step. Marco felt stubble brush gently against the skin of his cheek; it was different (Dylan was a compulsive shaver) but not altogether unpleasant.

The taller boy released him. "Thanks, man."

"Thanks?" Marco repeated, rubbing his cheek. "I should be thanking you that I didn't throw myself out of a window or something." He smiled back at Craig, then headed down the front walk.

_I try hard to be strong but sometimes I fail myself  
And after all I've promised you  
So faithfully you still believe in me_

Marco felt tears sliding down his cheek as he read Dylan's reply. _It just seems hard to keep trying with you so far away. _I'm not that far, Marco wanted to scream. I just want you to hold on! _I've done a lot of thinking, and I used Mike as a sounding board-- _That bastard! He was sleeping with Mike Cressman, and he just didn't bother to tell Marco until it was serious enough to merit signing a fucking lease. Marco felt empty again; he chewed on a fingernail, almost compulsively, as he avoided his own reflection in the glossy laptop screen. _I just thought it wasn't fair to you to keep you tied down. I know the right guy is out there for you, I'm just not sure it's me._

And, until that moment, Marco had been sure he was. It just goes to show, he supposed.

_I wanna cry  
Cry_


	3. That's Not Me

**Pet Sounds**  
(An Albumfiction Event by MannequIncorporated)

**Reminders:** I don't own characters. I don't own lyrics. This is slash. This is OOC.**  
**

**Track Three**  
_That's Not Me_

_I had to prove that I could make it alone now,  
But that's not me  
I wanted to show how independent I'd grown now,  
But that's not me_

"I swear I had him, he was just about to open up to me, and --" Craig looked back at Ellie. "He asked me if I was upset about Ashley!"

"Ashley?" Ellie laughed aloud. "I have no idea where Marco comes up with this. He's completely backward about some things."

Craig's brow furrowed. "Yeah, but he really threw me for a loop." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I panicked."

Ellie stifled another giggle. "Tell me you didn't go secret agent man on him." Her giggles burst out as he remained silent. "Jesus, Craig, if you're really interested in him, how could you do something so Grade-Seven?"

Craig cracked a small grin. "Well, he laughed, anyway."

"I'd definitely call that 'laughing at' and not 'laughing with'," she smirked. "What happened then?"

He looked away. "Marco just -- he clammed up, and said he was gonna go."

"And you...?" Ellie sized him up, preparing to judge.

"I walked him to the front door," Craig said.

"And then?"

He shrugged. "I gave him a hug, so what?" Craig hadn't intended to put a retort at the end of that. Maybe Ellie would miss it.

She didn't. "What kind of hug, Craig?"

"Just a hug!"

"Did you," she began. "Did you put both arms around him?"

Yes. "I, uh, I don't remember." He had also felt Marco's skin against his own, his cheek pressed against Craig's; He had relished the gentle tickle as Marco's sideburns brushed his ear; He had almost nuzzled his neck, without thinking, though Marco didn't seem to notice. Damn him.

"Ground Control to Major Craig?" Ellie's smirk returned. "Like hell you don't remember. Your eyes just closed." She looked at the ground, shaking her head. "Please tell me you didn't _smell _him."

"I didn't!" _At least, I wasn't obvious about it_. "What, would I just sniff his shoulder or something? Please."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "And what did your discerning sense of smell _not _come up with?"

"Sandalwood," he said, squinting as if to help remember, "and lime?"

She nodded. "Okay, so at least now I know you're not making this snuggle-hug scenario up. Unless you've bought him cologne before?"

Craig threw up his hands. "All right, you caught me. I went through my list of guy friends and attacked a perfume shop. Would you believe how hard Spinner is to shop for?"

"Point taken, okay?" Ellie was laughing harder now.

_I could try to be big in the eyes of the world  
What matters to me is what I could be to just one girl  
I'm a little bit scared, cause I haven't been home in a long time  
You needed my love, and I know that I left at the wrong time_

"Marco?" Craig knocked on the door again. "You home?"

The door finally opened. Marco stood in the frame, his hair rumpled, rubbing his eye in such a way that Craig fell for him again. He was wearing a t-shirt that was just slightly too small; it read 'Degrassi Cares' and revealed Marco's toned, but still boyish figure. It was then that the anatomical differences really hit Craig; _If this really happens, _he thought, _what the hell am I going to do with my hands?_

Marco was obviously not awake. " 'Sninethurdy in the morning, Craig." He stifled a yawn. "Wasso important?"

"I--" _I want you. _"I--" _Kiss me again. _"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Marco blinked. "I'm fine, Craig."

"I mean--" He saw a textbook on the table in the living room. "Don't you have class?"

Marco stared at him, confused. "Yeah. At two."

Craig hated going off the cuff. Surprising that he had to do it so much. "Well, I thought you might need a little breakfast." He pushed up the sleeves of his jacket. "Now, where do you keep the eggs?"

In no time they were in the kitchen, Marco watching while Craig tried to crack an egg. Several pieces of shell fell into the bowl.

Marco shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Craig, you can't cook."

"Why not?"

The shorter boy smiled a little. "Because you suck at it. Give it here." Marco made it look so easy.

As they enjoyed their omelets (which, to Craig's dismay, were absolutely _perfect_), Craig couldn't help but stare. Jesus, he was even cute when he was eating.

_My folks when I wrote and told 'em what I was up to said  
That's not me  
I went through all kinds of changes took a look at myself and said  
That's not me_

Craig turned the key in his lock, stepping inside, and saw a brown bald head over the top of the couch. "Hi, Joey."

The older man turned around. "Come sit down, Craig." He patted the couch next to him. With an impatient sigh, the boy sat next to him.

"What's this about?" Craig wasn't in the mood to be called on the carpet for anything today. "I've been taking my meds, okay?"

"This isn't about your meds, Craig." Joey coughed and looked away. "It's about Marco."

"What about him?" Every nerve in his body was on edge as his stepfather crossed an invisible line.

"Well, I, uh, I think you're spending too much time worrying about him." Joey looked at his hands, which were folded in his lap. "He'll get over Dylan eventually, and I just don't want to see you dragged too far down in his misery, okay?"

"Dylan's not why I'm hanging out with Marco, Joey."

The man looked up at this. "Are your meds messing with your head, or is this some kind of hormonal thing?" Joey was at a loss for words. "I mean, it looks like you're infatuated with him." He stammered a little. "I-- I think I'm pretty sure you like girls, Craig."

"Yeah!" Craig backpedaled a bit himself. "Yeah, no, I definitely like girls. Can't go wrong there."

"But why are you obsessing over him? It's not like you." Joey was worried.

"I dunno." Craig sat back, folding his arms. "But I'm definitely straight. No-brainer, right?" Right? Could he be straight and still like Marco? It merited further thought. But, later.

_I miss my pad and the places I've known  
And every night as I laid there alone  
I would dream  
I once had a dream, so I packed up and split for the city  
I soon found out that my lonely life wasn't so pretty  
I'm glad I went, now I'm that much more sure that we're ready_

Craig awoke with a start. He'd been dreaming something -- it was a good dream, that much he was sure of, but he couldn't pick out the particulars. The only image he had was the last one he had seen: Marco's beautiful, laughing eyes.

He rolled over, reaching for his cellphone, squinting at the bright, tiny screen. He dialed Marco's number from memory, and put the thing to his ear.

"Unnh?" Marco must have been asleep. Craig felt only a tiny bit sorry for waking him.

"Hey, Marco, it's me," he said, smiling at how Marco sounded in the middle of the night. It was so damnably cute. "I hope I didn't wake you up," he lied.

"No," Marco murmured. "No, I was, um, doing some studying." Craig heard shifting on the other end. "What's up?"

And then Craig's plan came crashing to a halt. Why had he called Marco? To hear his voice, of course, but what excuse was he going to give?

He said the first thing that came to mind. "You feel like ice cream?"

"Craig, it's four thirty in the morning. There's no way in hell I feel like ice cream right now." He sniffled. "I might tomorrow, though."

Craig cracked another smile, though Marco couldn't see it. "You mean today?"

"Whatever. Go to sleep, Craig."

"Goodnight," he whispered. "Sleep tight." That must have slipped out, Craig surmised.

"You too." Craig may have created the way Marco sounded touched in his own head.

_I once had a dream, so I packed up and split for the city  
I soon found out that my lonely life wasn't so pretty  
I once had a dream, so I packed up and split for the city  
I soon found out that my lonely life wasn't so pretty_


	4. Don't Talk

**Pet Sounds**

(An Albumfiction Event by MannequIncorporated)

** Reminders:** I don't own characters or lyrics. This is slash. This is OOC. And I promise this story will earn its rating next chapter.

**Track Four**

_Don't Talk (Put Your Head On My Shoulder)_

_I can hear so much in your sighs  
And I can see so much in your eyes  
There are words we both could say_

"Hey, Marco, you busy?" Marco could hear wind; Craig was walking, outside.

Marco paused a moment. "Well," he began, hesitating. "No, I'm not." _I'm just feeling sick over what I don't have anymore._ There had been a news special about hockey; his roadkill instinct made it impossible for him to turn back to his homework while the dull sports report rambled on about the thing that had stolen Dylan from him.

"Can I come over?" Craig asked. "I mean, if it's not too much trouble?"

"Oh, yeah, no big deal," Marco said, trying to sound nonchalant. He needed a time estimate; he needed to know how perfect he could make the place before Craig showed up. "Where are you?"

"I just left Joey's," the boy answered, sounding a bit sour as he said the name.

"What's wrong with him?" Marco picked up on the subtlety in Craig's voice; maybe it was the fact that they'd had so much communication in the past few days. That was it, it had to be.

"He told me--" Craig stopped midsentence. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it. I just need to see you now, okay?"

Marco nodded, though Craig couldn't see him. "How long--?"

"Uh, twenty minutes?"

Thank God, it was enough for a shower.  
_But don't talk, put your head on my shoulder  
Come close, close your eyes and be still  
Don't talk, take my hand and let me feel your heart beat_

Marco's hair was still hopelessly wet when the doorbell rang. He rushed to answer it, still holding his towel, and saw Craig leaning in the doorframe. He was wearing that amazing shirt, the one that showed every muscle in his lean chest. Well, so what? Craig was attractive, and Marco had known that all along.

But there was deep hurt in his pale eyes tonight, a hurt that seemed accentuated by the full moon in the sky behind him. "Come in," Marco said, though it wasn't really necessary.

Craig stepped into the foyer, still not having said a word. Marco gestured toward the couch, not wanting to violate the silence again. Craig took a seat; rather, he nearly collapsed backward, sinking deep into the soft leather sofa, his right arm stretched across its low back.

Marco took a seat beside him as he threw the towel across a chair, a few inches away while still under the emotional umbrella his arm provided. He felt Craig's hand slide down, wrapping around his shoulder, as he said a single word: "Thanks."

He was still unreadable, as he stared at the wall. Marco felt himself slide into Craig, felt his head lean up against him, resisted the instinctual urge to put his hand on the taller boy's chest, to curl around him. How nice, he thought, that they could be such close friends.

They sat there in silence for an eternity, as Marco rode the waves on the vast ocean that was Craig's rhythmic breath, he felt himself snuggle down further into his side, his own breathing slowing to match Craig's. How wonderful that they could enjoy silences together; it was as if no time had passed between them, they were as close as they'd ever been.

_Being here with you feels so right  
We could live forever tonight  
Let's not think about tomorrow_

Marco awoke, though it was a slow awakening, to find his head pillowed in Craig's lap. Craig, for his part, was leaning on the armrest, still asleep himself. Marco smiled at the picture he knew he was part of; it was a beautiful friendship that had taken years to build. He glanced at the clock: it was three thirty in the morning, and he had a class tomorrow -- no, wait. Tomorrow was Sunday, or today, rather; he had nowhere to be. Nowhere but here. He sat up slowly, his head begging to be where it was soft and warm again. He blinked his eyes a few times, realizing that they'd left the lights on when they'd fallen asleep.

When had they fallen asleep? He hadn't a clue. Marco stood up, looking out the window. There was that full moon again, with a glowing ring around it. _Bad weather and strange people,_ his mother would say, if she were here. He turned to the hall closet and pulled out a blanket, heading back to the sofa.

Poor Craig, he was still in his heavy jacket! He gently lifted him from the armrest, sliding the jacket down off him, whilst being careful not to wake him.

And then Craig was muttering something, that sounded like 'You still here?' Marco nodded, though Craig was obviously dreaming. "Yeah, I'm here," he whispered back. Marco felt Craig's strong hands on his shoulders, pulling him down into a soft, unconscious kiss. His lips were soft and warm, and unlike Dylan's, they were (if one could describe lips in this manner) completely unassuming. He found it funny that, in the heat of the moment a year ago, it hadn't even occurred to him what Craig's lips had felt like.

Marco allowed Craig to kiss him softly as the pale boy, still asleep, drifted further into his dream, relaxing and releasing Marco as he slipped down onto the armrest again. Smiling a little, the italian boy put the blanket over him, laying back down on the couch, placing his head once again in Craig's warm lap, letting sleep claim him again.

_And don't talk, put your head on my shoulder  
Come close, close your eyes and be still  
Don't talk, take my hand and listen to my heart beat  
Listen, listen, listen_

Ten thirty came around and Marco's amazing automatronic coffee maker began to brew. Sunlight was streaming through the window, and Craig had begun to stir, which brought Marco out of his dreams. He slid down the couch, stretching and giving Craig room to stand up, which he did. A smile came to Marco's face as he remembered what had happened. "What'd you dream about?" he asked coyly.

Craig, who had been stretching his arms, stopped. "Why?"

Marco's smile broadened as he sat up. "Whoever it was, you must've been pretty interested in her."

"What d'you mean?" Craig was looking at him oddly, a posture only accentuated by the way his hair was sticking up in the back.

Marco rubbed his eyes. "At, like, four in the morning, you reached over and kissed me." He blinked a few times. "I mean, you were still asleep, so I guess you were kissing somebody in your dream. Was it Manny?"

Craig shook his head. "I kissed you?"

"Yeah." _It wasn't half bad, for your being asleep, _Marco thought. "You sound so surprised. Am I that butt ugly?"

"No!" Craig said quickly. "I mean, you're a guy."

Marco shrugged. _Whatever _that_ was supposed to mean._ "Anyway, I kissed you a while back, so I guess we're even now."

"Yeah, I guess so," said Craig, though he was distracted. "Is that coffee?"

Marco nodded, pointing to the kitchen. "Help yourself. It's Starbucks French Roast," he called, as Craig disappeared in the hallway.

Marco stood up, folding up the blanket, and Craig reappeared with two cups of coffee, holding one out. Marco took it.

Craig downed his rapidly, and grabbed for his jacket. "I've gotta run," he said quickly, setting down his mug. "But, Marco?"

"Yes?" Marco was still a little bewildered by Craig's actions.

Craig pulled him into a quick hug, nearly spilling Marco's full cup of coffee, then released him. "Thanks."

"For what?"

Craig smiled, a little sadly. "For everything."

And then, he was gone, leaving Marco in the living room, holding his coffee in one hand and rubbing the lips his friend had kissed the night before with the other.

_Don't talk, put your head on my shoulder  
Don't talk, close your eyes and be still  
Don't talk, put your head on my shoulder_


	5. I'm Waiting For The Day

**Pet Sounds**  
(An Albumfiction Event by MannequIncorporated)

**Reminders:** I don't own characters or lyrics. This is OOC. This is slash. And in the next thousand words or so, it'll be graphic slash.

**Track Five**  
_I'm Waiting For The Day_

_I came along when he broke your heart  
That's when you needed someone  
To help forget about him  
I gave you love with a brand new start  
That's what you needed the most  
To set your broken heart free_

Craig opened Joey's front door to see Marco, wearing a denim jacket, chewing on a nail.

Marco looked up. "Craig!" He rushed in, wrapping his arms around Craig. "You called and sounded upset, I was so worried!" He pulled back, looking him in the eye. "Are you okay?"

Craig nodded, already losing his nerve, already unable to say the three words he planned to meet Marco at the door with. "I, uh, I wanted to show you that yes, I can cook." He composed a grin on his face as his heart threatened to fly apart from the tension only he seemed to feel. "So I made dinner."

Marco smiled. "Craig, that's--" he peeked around Craig, trying to peer into the kitchen. "That's so sweet of you! But you didn't have to--"

"Yeah," Craig said, trying not to clench his teeth. "I did." _Dunno how I'll eat any of it, though._

Marco hung his jacket in the coat closet as Craig stirred the sauce. He had already set the kitchen table, opting away from formality and using the usual dinner plates. He wasn't proposing marriage, for Christ's sake, why should he have china and champagne?

He felt hands squeeze his elbows. "What's for dinner?" Craig nearly jumped; surely Marco must have some idea what this was about. He was being awfully physical, which Craig didn't mind, but he felt sure that Marco reciprocated the way he felt. He had to; he'd fallen asleep last night in Craig's lap. What guy friends could do that and not feel uncomfortable? He snapped out of his internal dialogue. "Eggplant Parmesan," he said, reaching for oven mitts as the timer dinged.

Marco sniffed the hot air from the oven as Craig set the dish down. "Smells wonderful," he said. "Can I help with anything?"

Craig nodded. "Could you drain the pasta?"

Marco did so as Craig lifted the eggplant onto a serving plate. As he turned to pour the sauce into a dish, his elbow brushed against Marco's. It was only the slightest touch, but as skin came in contact with skin Craig felt like heaven on earth. He wondered if Marco had felt it, too.

Marco looked up at him, smiling, as a hint of colour graced his cheeks. _So he _did _notice. _Craig smiled back, carrying the food to the table.

_I know you cried, and you felt blue  
But when I could I gave strength to you  
I'm waiting for the day when you can love again_

Craig dished out the food as Marco seated himself. "This looks great, Craig," he murmured as Craig ladled sauce over the entree. He sniffed at the air, suddenly, then looked at his host. "This can't be--"

The taller boy broke into a wide grin, pleased with himself. _Home run. _"-- Your mother's recipe?"

Marco's eyes went wide as he beamed. "You're amazing."

Craig set his dish down quickly, almost knocking it over, then squatted next to Marco, gripping the side of the table for balance. "Say that again."

Marco's smile faded to a look of incredulity. He spoke, barely a whisper. "You're amazing?"

Craig couldn't stand it. To hell with words; he leaned forward in an instant, pressing his lips against Marco's, finally feeling what his unconscious mind had been tormenting him over. He used his free hand to grip the bewildered boy's collar, gently tugging him from the chair, lips still pressed against his as Marco knelt beside him. Marco's lips softened as Craig kissed him, deeply, and all Craig's senses found themselves at the tip of his tongue, which was even now flicking this way and that; he lifted his hand to caress Marco's cheek, as Marco kissed him back, oh, did he kiss back, and Craig felt like he'd burst out of his skin. He pulled away slowly, waiting for those beautiful brown eyes to open, waited for the comprehension to dawn in those beautiful eyes, and what would Marco finally say?

"It was me." Marco's eyes shone. "You were dreaming about me, weren't you?"

_I kissed your lips  
And when your face looked sad  
It made me think about him  
And that you still loved him so_

"I love you, Marco." Craig was still kneeling, leaning all his weight on his hands as he whispered the words into the italian boy's ear.

"How long?" Marco was clearly still in shock, though he was sitting on the floor, in a much more comfortable cross-legged position.

Craig smiled softly. "Since forever," he said, leaning back away from Marco. He met his eyes. Those eyes. "I only knew it after you kissed me, and I kept hoping you'd do it again," he finished.

Marco sat a little forward, looking away for only a fleeting second, before he murmured "Can I do it now?"

Craig flushed by way of response, and Marco leaned forward. It was different this time; Craig had never known any way to let another take the lead, and was quite surprised at the way Marco was kissing him, like he meant it. It was, well, _good_. It was better than good; it made him feel wanted, and needed. Marco was kissing him like there was a death sentence involved, and Craig was content to let him grab at his T-shirt, to let him push him back on the floor, to hold Marco's waist, to slide his hands down to his hips as Marco knelt over him.

And then somebody's cellphone rang; it must have been Marco's, since Craig hadn't turned his on.

Marco pulled back slowly as the phone continued to ring from inside his bag. He stood up, fixing his shirt, as he went to answer it.

Craig stood too, looking at Marco from the next room over, falling in love with the way his tight jeans had left a little gap beneath his shirt, letting just the smallest bit of tanned skin show over his hip. He couldn't make out what Marco was saying, though it wasn't really his business anyway. He continued setting up the table, trying to make sure the meal wouldn't get cold.

Marco returned in a few minutes, tears in his eyes. "He wants his things sent to him," he said blankly.

Craig took Marco into his arms, holding him tight as the smaller boy's tears began to flow, as he curled himself into Craig's chest. Craig said nothing, but continued to hold him, stroking his hair gently, trying to share his strength. Marco shook his head slowly, still pressed against the taller boy. "I want him to be happy," he said through the tears, "But why didn't he think about me?"

"Maybe long-distance isn't his thing," Craig said softly, still holding his tearful companion. "Maybe he's moved on."

"I wish it were that easy," Marco muttered, still sniffling.

Craig released him, pushing him gently back, leaning his forehead against Marco's. "Let me help you."

_But you know that pretty soon  
I made you feel glad  
That you belonged to me  
And love began to show_

Craig sure as hell didn't remember dinner; he ate a few bites and cleared away the food, his eyes barely able to leave Marco's as his heart pounded against his collarbone. Eternity stretched as he took Marco's hand, making his way across the miles from the kitchen to the stairwell, taking Marco along with him.

Marco made a small cough behind him; obviously he knew where this was leading (though he wasn't exactly objecting). "Craig? Are we expecting Joey any time soon?"

Craig stopped, turning to press his lips against Marco's quickly and softly. "He's out of town, and Angie's staying with Emma." Satisfied, the italian boy blushed and nodded. They pressed on, heading up the stairs to Craig's bedroom.

Craig shut the door behind them. Marco sat on the edge of Craig's bed, quietly and calmly, looking for all the world like he was at a bus stop, though his charcoal eyes smoldered with an intensity Craig hadn't seen before.

But Craig wanted to be sure he did this right. He knelt before Marco, kissing him softly, gently, at first, and then there was the passion, it broke on him in waves as he gave up resistance --

--and then there were hands, deliciously warm hands on his flat stomach, under his shirt, and all over his chest, and playing at the hairs in the center, and teasing at his nipples, and when had he stood up? and the hands were lifting his shirt up, and up, and away, and then Marco's lips were gone, and his shirt was over his head, then on the ground--

--and then he was unbuttoning Marco's shirt, and sliding it down, back and away off the boy's tanned shoulders, and then he was kissing Marco's chin and neck and collarbone and chest, and Marco was making this amazingly sweet noise in his ear all the while--

--and Marco had gone, only he wasn't gone, he was just on his knees, and Craig's eyes closed as he felt his belt come loose, felt his jeans fall around his shins, felt soft hands guiding his ankles out of their restraints, and then those hands were on his waist, tugging at his boxers, and they were slipping away, and Craig felt himself flush all over as those hands were on his most jealously guarded posession, which even now was rising to meet the italian boy--

--and everything was warmth and moisture as Marco teased and pleasured with lips and tongue in ways Craig hadn't encountered before--

--and Craig was kissing Marco, and he tasted himself on the boy's sweet, tender lips--

--and Craig was on top of Marco, and the hair on his smaller chest brushed against Craig's own, and it was different, and it was wonderful, and Craig's hands were fumbling with Marco's jeans, and it was difficult to keep kissing him and remove his pants, and it was difficult to decide which to focus on--

--and Craig was holding Marco's erection in his hands, and when in a million lifetimes had he dreamed this would happen? and he was kissing it, and he was tracing his tongue around its head, and it tasted exactly like he imagined it would, only different, and Marco was making that same noise, and Craig closed his mouth over it, and he felt Marco shiver with pleasure--

--and Marco was pulling his legs against his chest, and Craig spit down into his hand, rubbing it over himself, as he made ready to do that which he'd been dreaming about for weeks now, and oh, it felt incredible and new and warm and tight--

--oh _God_, Marco, keep kissing me like that--

_He hurt you then, but that's all gone  
I guess I'm saying you're the only one  
I'm waiting for the day when you can love again_

Craig looked up at the ceiling as he stroked Marco's hair absently, still basking in the afterglow which had already claimed his companion and taken him to sleep. He felt Marco give a pleasant sigh, the breath tickling Craig's chest hairs nearest where Marco had laid his head. And as the last glimmer of light faded away, as the first streetlight flickered on by the street below, Craig fell asleep with his best friend and best love curled against him.

_He hurt you then, but that's all done  
I guess I'm saying you're the only one  
I'm waiting for the day when you can love again_


	6. Let's Go Away For Awhile

**Pet Sounds**  
_(An Albumfiction Event by MannequIncorporated)_

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned below, nor do I own Brian Wilson or his majestic talent (they belong to Capitol Records).

Note: This is not only a slash fic (which, if you don't like slash, you can leave now), but also an extension of the songfic theme: that is, an _album_fic. This story will follow a relationship between Marco and Craig, as set to (and encapsulated by) the album Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys. As such, each chapter will follow the lyrics of its corresponding track on the album. If you don't have a copy of the album, GET ONE. It and Sergeant Pepper are the two albums every living soul should own. Every. Living. Soul. That being said, enjoy.

--

**Track Six**

_Let's Go Away For Awhile_

They loaded their bags into the back of the car.

It was only for a few nights, and it was only just downtown, but the little motel seemed like a million miles from their troubles.

Marco had a long weekend off school, and as Craig was in town more or less on his account, they were happy to get away and learn more about each other, making up for lost time.

The particular motel they found was run by an elderly couple who had hand-decorated each room in a different way; the room they'd chosen was called The Spirit of St. Louis, and the walls had been painted to look like a landscape. Dozens of model airplanes ranging from early bi-wings to Concorde jets hung from the ceiling, all probably hand-assembled by the old man himself.

It was perfect.

They ordered in dinner every one of those glorious three nights, not leaving the room but once every day (to get ice); they talked through the day, slept in each other's arms through the night, and kissed and touched at various intervals, whenever the moment hit them. Their happiness radiated through the walls, bringing the room around them to life in a way it probably hadn't seen in years.

And when it came time to go home, Marco pulled out a Polaroid and snapped a picture of the room as they headed out. He tucked it into Craig's duffel with a grin.

Reality beckoned them from their excursion, and as they returned to Marco's bedroom that night they relaxed in the feeling of accomplishment, in having successfully run away, in the fact that the world could still stop for two such lovers.

--

_(a/n) - Sorry for the wait! I've been moving and doing general things and such, and it's not allowed me time to write! I should be back in the swing of things now though._


End file.
